Waterbury evening Democrat., 1887-12-27

ceive company, his guest was French gen tieman, Q M. Delille. After dinner tho guest happened to mention that he was pupil or M. Mesner and was well versed in his system. some good natured skepticism being evlnced as to the power of producing hypnotic sleep, ne oHered to experiment on his host, and dld so successfully. Then he proposed to try It on John, who assented. He was equally successful there. He put a number of ques- tions to John while in the mesmeric state, which were answered, to his brothers great delight The windows were open, as the day was warm. They were what were called at the time French windows, opening to the floor, on narrow balcony with low railing. One of the answers seemed so con1ical that the Frenchman fell into a fit of laughter, so violent that he lost his balance and fell back ward out of the window and over the balcony to the ground, the chamber being in the sec ond story. My father ran down to assist him, but he was past assistance. The man had broken his neck.
 There was a coroner's inquest, whose yer dict was in accordance with tho facts. When that was over my father went ill to John, who in the excitement of the moment had been forgotten. He found him still in the nesmeric stupor, and tried to awaken him. Failing in this, he sent for the family physi- cian to whom he detailed the circumstances. Every effort was in vain. The doctor insist ed that it was a cataleptic fit; he pooh poohed at Mesmer and his devices. But whatever it was, John could not be aroused and was put to bed. Thus he had remained through these long years. To avoid scandal, the secret had been kept in the family. His food, which was given him by stomach tube, was of liquid character, and had served to maintain life. His brother had attended him, per forming the most servile offices faithfully and well. When his son was near manhood he had let him into the secret. When the latter married, the wife, in time, was made acquainted with it. Thus it had gone from father to son, and on down, the Trelawneys being chained to living corpse.
 Of course accepted a share in the respon- sibi]ity of the secret. What else could dos But I never married, though often urged by my father. I would wait said, until all was over John Tralawny was now over 108 years old. He could not last much longer. When l asked my father why no attempt had been made to awaken the mesmerized man, he replied that the secret of doing that had died with Delille. This stimulated me. I eagerly read and studied all about the sub ject, and when it came my turn to wait on the old man 1 made a number of experi-
 
 Two years after this my father exhibited marked symptoms of an incurable disease, with which be fingered for nearly two years more, when he died.
 The secret had now become my sole bur den. John Trelawney, if we could give the corpse a living name, had been reduced almost to skeleton, withercd and dried up, but still alive I had given up all hope of resuscitating him. But he exercised over mo a grim fascination. I used to remain after I had fed him with the stomach tube and sit and read an hour or so, with bottle of wine before me, though I only slipped a single glass. One day had taken solitary pamph- let, German magazine rather, and on glancing over it's pages I noticed paper on "Hypnotism." The only thing in it which excited me was a statement of the author that there was no difficulty in arousing one from the artificial sleep provided the reverse passes were continued without intermission, and the operator had faith in his own powers and an unconquerable will
 ''I know,'' said, ''that I have all the will power in which the Trelawneys have been and I will control this man. He shall awaken
 began making the reverse passes over the prostrate form, and continued them without intermission until my arms ached. But I kept on.
 "You shall awaken" said, and meant it.
 Suddenly the figure beneath mo uttered deep sigh.
 How my boart throbbed! I continued the passes
 John Trelawney opened his eyes, looked around, half closed his eyes and fell back. I ran to tho table, filled a glass of wine and poured it between his lips To my intense delight he swallowed it, though apparently with difficulty. It seemed to invigorate him. He half raised himself, while I supported him, and, looking in my face, said in a thin, piping voice:
 ''Where am I? Who are you?"
 ''I am Guy Trelawney," replied.
 "Guy Trelawney? Nonsense! You arc not my brother! Ah!" he continued, looking around and then at me. ''I sec it now. This is drean!'
 With that he closed his eyes.
 Iput him gently down and procured an- other glass of wine. ''Talze this, Uncle John," said; ''it will do you good"
 "He calls me Uncle John,'" he muttercd. ''Just now he wanted to pass for my brother. What a queer dream! Wine, eh! Well, it does seem natural in taste.'
 He drank the wine, and supported him ill a sitting posture by piling the pillows, rein forced by a chair at his back. Then, as it was growing dark, I drew a match from the safe and, after igniting it, lit the lamp.
 s'What on earth is that?" he cried. "Did you get light by rubbing the ends of your fingers? This is certainly the oldest dream that ever entered mans noddle."
 told him it was friction match, and lit another to show how the light was produced. He was very much amused and listened with a sardonic smile while explained tho mode of manufacture and the materials used. "We find them indispensable when there are not only fires to make, but so many gas jets to light"
 1'Gas jets" he said, inquiringly.
 ''Let mo assist you to dress" said. "It is some hours yet till bedtime. We will go to the library, which is moro comfortable"
 He had dazed look as said this, and was still more astonished when l brought out @ pair of trousers and dressing gown.
 ''Ah!" he said, ''these are the things people arc wearing now-Jeffersonian innovation. Pah! where are my breeches!"
 went to the chiffonier in which his clothes had been always kept, and drew forth his brooches. found them literally riddled.
 'sUncle John," I said, producing them, s'they are ruined by moths"
 s'What!," he said, ''my best brooches cut up in this way! What the-oh! but it's all dream, of course. We'll, I'll try the others"
 Io thrust himself into the trousers, but